The Gray Dawn

S >> Stewart Edward White >> The Gray Dawn

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Among the first of those arrested was the notorious Yankee Sullivan, an ex-
prize fighter, ward heeler, ballot-box staffer, and shoulder striker. He
had always been a pillar of strength to those engaged in corrupt practices.
This man went to pieces completely. He confessed the details of many of his
own crimes but, what was more important, implicated many others as well.
His testimony was invaluable, not necessarily as final proof against those
whom he accused, but as indications for thorough investigations. Finally,
unexpectedly, he committed suicide in his cell. It seems he had been
accustomed to from sixty to eighty drinks of whiskey a day, and the sudden,
complete deprivation had destroyed him. Warned by this, the committee
henceforward issued regular rations of whiskey to its prisoners!

Trials in due order, with counsel for defence and ample opportunity to call
witnesses, went on briskly. Those who anticipated more hangings were
disappointed. It became known that the committee had set for itself the
rule that capital punishment would be inflicted only for crimes so
punishable by the regular law. But each outgoing ship carried crowds of
those on whom had been passed the sentence of banishment. The majority of
these were, of course, low thugs, "Sydney ducks," hangers on; but a very
large proportion were taken from what had been known as the city's best. In
the law courts these men would in many cases have been declared as white as
the driven snow. But they were undesirable citizens; the committee so
decided them; and bade them begone. Charles Duane, Wooley Kearney, William
Carr, Edward Bulger, Philander Brace, William McLean, J.D. Musgrave, and
Peter Wightman were well-known and influential names found on the "black
list," Peter Wightman, James White, and our old friend, Ned McGowan, ran
away. Hundreds of others left the city. A terror spread among the ignorant
and vicious of the underworld. Some of the minor offenders brought in by
the Vigilante police were by the Executive Committee turned over to the
regular law courts. _Every one of such cases was promptly convicted by
those courts_!

This did not look much like disbanding, nor did any opportunity for
wholesale arrest of the anarchists seem imminent. The leaders of the Law
and Order faction were at last aroused.

"This is more than anarchy; it is revolution," said Judge Caldwell. "It is
a successful revolution because it is organized. The people of this city
are scattered and powerless. They in turn should be organized to combat the
forces of disorder."

In pursuance of this belief--that the public at large needed only to be
called together in order to defend its institutions--handbills were printed
and newspaper notices published calling a meeting for June and in
Portsmouth Square. Elaborate secret preparations, involving certain
distributions of armed men were made to prevent what was considered
certain interference. This was useless. Immediately after the appearance of
the notice the Committee of Vigilance issued orders that the meeting was in
no manner to be disturbed, and hung out placards reading:

"Members of the Vigilance Committee: Order must be maintained."

"Friends of the Vigilance Committee: Keep out of the Square," etc.

The meeting was well attended. Enormous crowds gathered, not only in and
around the square itself, but in balconies and windows and on housetops. It
was a ribald, disrespectful crowd, evidently out for a good time, calling
back and forth, shouting question or comment at the men gathered about the
speaker's platform.

"What kind of a circus do you call this show, anyway?" roared a huge, bare-
armed miner in red shirt.

"This is the Law and Murder meeting," instantly answered some one from a
balcony.

This phrase tickled the crowd hugely. The words were passed from man to
man. Eventually they became the stereotyped retort. "Stranglers!" sneered
one faction. "Law and Murder!" flung back the other.

On the platform stood or sat the owners of many of the city's proud names--
judges, jurists, merchants, holders of high political office, men whose
influence a month ago had been paramount and irresistible. Among them were
famed orators, men who had never failed to hold and influence a crowd. But
two hundred feet away little could be heard. It early became evident that,
though there would be no interference, the sentiment of the crowd was
against them. And, what was particularly maddening, the sentiment was good-
humoured. Even the compliment of being taken seriously was denied them!

Colonel Ed Baker came forward to speak. The colonel's gift of eloquence was
such that, in spite of his known principles, his lack of scruple, his
insincerity, he won his way to a picturesque popularity and fame. Later he
delivered a funeral oration over the remains of David Broderick that has
gone far to invest the memory of that hard-headed, venal, unscrupulous
politician with an aura of romance. But the crowd would have little of him
this day. An almost continuous uproar drowned his efforts. Catch words such
as liberty, constitution, _ habeas corpus_, trial by jury, freedom, etc.,
occasionally became audible. The people were not interested.

"See Cora's defender!" cried someone, voicing the general suspicion that
Baker had been one of the little gambler's hidden counsel. "Cora!" "Ed
Baker!" "Ten thousand dollars!" "Out of that, you old reprobate!" jeered
the audience. He spoke ten minutes against the storm, then yielded, red
faced and angry. Others tried in vain. A Southerner named Benham, while
deploring passionately the condition of the city which had been seized by a
mob, robbed of its sacred rights, etc., happened inadvertently to throw
back his coat, thus revealing the butt of a Colt's revolver. The bystanders
caught the point at once.

"There's a pretty Law and Order man!" they shrieked. "Hey, Benham! Don't
you know it's against the law to go armed?"

"I carry this weapon," shrieked Benham, passionately shaking his fist, "not
as an instrument to overthrow the law, but to uphold it!"

A clear, steady voice from a nearby balcony made itself distinctly heard:

"In other words, sir, you break the law in order to uphold the law," it
said. "What more are the Vigilantes doing?"

The crowd went wild over this repartee. The confusion became worse. Old
Judge Campbell was thrust forward, in the hope that his age and his senior
judgeship would command respect. He was unable to utter consecutive
sentences.

"I once thought," he interrupted himself piteously, "that I was the free
citizen of a free country, but recent occurrences have convinced me that I
am a slave; a slave, gentlemen, more a slave than any on a Southern
plantation for they know their masters, but I know not mine!"

But his auditors refused to be affected.

"Oh, yes, you do!" they informed him. "You know your masters as well as
anybody--two of them were hung the other day!"

After this the meeting broke up. The most ardent Law and Order man could
not deny that as a popular demonstration it had been a fizzle.

But if this attempt at home to gain coherence failed, up river the
partisans had better luck. A hasty messenger with tidings for the ear of
the Executive Committee only was followed by rapidly spreading rumours.
Five hundred men with two pieces of artillery were coming down from
Sacramento to liberate the prisoners, especially Billy Mulligan, or die in
the attempt. They were reported to be men from the southeast: Texans,
Carolinians, crackers from Pike County, all fire-eaters, reckless, sure to
make trouble. Their numbers were not in themselves formidable, but every
man knew the city still to be full of scattered warriors needing only
leaders and a rallying point. The materials for a very pretty civil war
were laid for the match. An uneasiness pervaded headquarters, not for the
outcome, but for the unavoidable fighting and bloodshed.

Therefore, when Olney hastily entered the main hall early in the evening,
and in a loud voice called for "two hundred men with side arms for especial
duty," there was a veritable scramble to enlist. Olney picked out the
required number, selecting, it was afterward noticed, only the big men
physically. They fell in, and were marched quickly out Market Street. It
was dark. Expectations were high. Just beyond Second Street, dimly visible
against the sky or in the faint starlight, they saw a mysterious force
opposing them, men on foot, horses, the wheels of guns. Each man gripped
his revolver and set his teeth. Here, evidently, from this ordinarily
deserted and distant part of town, a flanking attack was to have been
delivered. As they drew nearer they made out wagons; and nearer still-bale
upon bale of gunny sacks, and shovels!

The truth dawned on them, and a great laugh went up. "Sold! Sold! Sold!"
they cried.

But they set to work with a will, filled the gunny sacks with sand, piled
them on the wagons; and so by morning Fort Gunnybags, as headquarters was
thenceforth called, came into existence. Cannon were mounted, breastworks
piled, embrasures planned.

The five hundred fire-eaters were no myth. They disembarked, greeted the
horde of friends who had come to meet them, marched to Fort Gunnybags,
looked it over, thrust their hands in their pockets, and walked peacefully
away to the nearest barrooms!

Wise men. By now the Vigilante dispositions were so complete that in the
mere interest of examining so sudden yet so thorough an organization, a
paragraph or so may profitably be spent on it. Behind headquarters was a
long shed stable in which were to be found at all hours saddle horses and
artillery horses, all saddled and bridled, ready for instant use. Twenty-
six pieces of artillery, mostly sent in by captains of merchant vessels in
the harbour, were here parked. Other cannon were mounted for the defence of
Fort Gunnybags. Muskets, rifles, and sabres enough to arm 6,000 men had
been accumulated--and there were 6,000 men to use them! A French portable
barricade had been constructed in the event of possible street fighting, a
sort of wheeled framework that could be transformed into litters or scaling
ladders. Sutlers' offices and kitchens could feed a small army. Flags and
painted signs carrying the emblematic open eye of vigilance decorated the
rooms, A huge alarm bell had been mounted on the roof. The mattresses,
beds, cots, blankets, and other furniture necessary to sleep four companies
on the premises had been provided. A completely equipped armourer's shop
and a hospital with all supplies occupied the third story. The forces were
divided into four companies of artillery, one squadron and two troops of
cavalry, four regiments, and thirty-two companies of infantry; besides the
small but efficient police organization. A tap on the bell gathered these
men in an incredibly short space of time. "As a rule," says Bancroft,
"within fifteen minutes from the time the bell was tapped, on any occasion,
seven-tenths of the entire Vigilante forces would be in their places armed
ready for battle."

Another corps, not as heroic, but quite as necessary, it was found
advisable to appoint. The sacking of which Fort Gunnybags was made was of
very coarse texture. When dry, the sand filling tended to run out!
Therefore, those bags had to be kept constantly wet, and somebody had to do
it. Enemies sneeringly remarked that Fort Gunnybags consumed much more
water without than within; but this joke lost its point when it became
known that the committee, decades in advance of its period, had prohibited
alcohol absolutely!

Realizing from the two lamentable fiascos just recounted that little could
be accomplished by private initiative, the upholders of the law turned
their attention to Sacramento. Here they had every reason to hope for
success. No matter how well organized the Vigilantes might be, or how
thoroughly they carried the sympathies of the local public, there could be
no doubt that they were acting in defiance of the law, were, in fact, no
better than rebels. It was not only within the power, it was the duty of
the governor of the State to declare the city in a condition of
insurrection.

This being accomplished, it followed logically that the State troops must
put down the insurrection; and if they failed, there was still the immense
power of the republic to call upon. After all, when you look at it that
way, this handful of disturbers amounted to very little.

The first step was to win over the governor. Without him the next step
could not be taken. Accordingly all the big guns of San Francisco took the
_Senator_ for Sacramento. There they met Terry, Volney Howard, and others
of the same ilk. No governor of Johnson's sort could long withstand such
pressure. He promised to issue the proclamation of insurrection as soon as
it was "legally proved" that the committee had acted outside the law. The
mere fact that it had already hanged two men and deported a great number of
others meant nothing. That, apparently, was not legal proof.

In order that all things should be legal, then, Terry issued a writ of
_habeas corpus_ for the body of one William Mulligan, and gave it into the
hands of Deputy-sheriff Harrison for service on the committee. Nobody
expected the latter to deliver over Mulligan.

"But they'll deny the writ," said Terry, "and that will constitute a legal
defiance of the State. The governor will then be legally justified in
issuing his proclamation, and ordering out the State troops to enforce the
writ."

If the State troops proved inadequate, the plan was then to call on the
United States--as locally represented by General Wool and Captain David
Farragut--for assistance. With this armed backing three times the Vigilante
force could be quickly subdued. As it was all legal, it could not fail.

Harrison took the writ of _habeas corpus_ and proceeded to San Francisco.
He presented himself at headquarters, produced his writ, and had himself
announced to the Executive Committee then in session.

"Tell him to go to hell!" growled someone.

But a half-dozen members saw through the ruse, and interposed vigorous
objections.

"I move," said Dempster solemnly, "that our police be permitted to remove
all prisoners for a few hours."

This was carried, and put into immediate effect. Deputy Harrison was then
politely received, his writ fully acknowledged, and he was allowed to
search the premises. Of course he found nothing, and departed much
crestfallen. The scheme had failed. The committee had in no way denied his
authority or his writ. Harrison was no fool. He saw clearly what he had
been expected to do. On his way back to Sacramento he did some thinking. To
Terry he unblushingly returned the writ endorsed: "Prevented from service
by armed men." For the sake of the cause Harrison had lied!

Johnson immediately issued his proclamation. The leaders turned with
confidence to the Federal authorities for assistance. To their blank dismay
General Wool refused to furnish arms. His position was that he had no
authority to do so without orders from Washington. The sympathies of this
doughty old soldier were not with this attempt. Colonel Baker and Volney
Howard waited on him, and after considerable conversation made the mistake
of threatening to report him to Washington for refusing to uphold the law.

"I think, gentlemen," flashed back the veteran, "I know my duty, and in its
performance dread no responsibility."

So saying he bowed them from the room. Farragut equally could not clearly
see why he should train the guns of his ship on the city. With this fiasco
the opposition for the moment died. The Executive Committee went on
patiently working down through its black list. It announced that after June
24th no new cases would be taken, A few days later it proclaimed an
"adjournment parade" on July 5th. It considered its work done. The city had
become safe.

LXVII

But this peaceful outcome did not suit the aristocratic wing of the Law and
Order party in the least. The haughty, supremely individualistic, bold,
forceful, often charming coterie of fire-eaters had, in their opinion, been
insulted, and they wanted reprisal, punishment, blood. Terry, Baker,
Bennett, Miles, Webb, Nugent, Blatchford, Rowlee, Caldwell, Broderick,
Ware, Volney Howard, Black--to mention only a few--chafed intolerably. Such
men were accustomed to have their own way, to cherish an ultra-sensitive
"honour," to be looked up to; had come to consider themselves as especially
privileged, to look upon themselves as direct representatives of the only
proper government and administration of law. This revolt of the "lower
classes," the "smug, psalm-singing Yankees," the "shopkeepers," was
intolerable impudence. Because of a series of accidents, proper resentment
of such impudence, due punishment of such denial of the law had been
postponed. It was not, therefore, abrogated.

When, therefore, the committee announced July 5th as a definite date for
disbanding, the lawful authorities and their upholders, blinded by their
passions, were distinctly disappointed. Where the common citizen perceived
only the welcome end of a necessary job well done, they saw slipping away
the last chance for a clash of arms that should teach these rebels their
place. It was all very well to talk of arresting the ringleaders and
bringing them to justice. In the present lamentable demoralization of the
courts it might not work; and even if it did work, the punishment of
ringleaders was small satisfaction as compared to triumphant vindication in
pitched battle.

Sherman had resigned command of the military in disgust when he found that
General Wool and Captain Farragut had no intention of supplying him Federal
arms, thus closing--save for later inaccurate writing in his "Memoirs"--an
unfortunate phase of his career. In his stead had been chosen General
Volney Howard. Howard was a rather fat, very pompous, wholly conceited
bombastes furioso with apparently remarkable lack of judgment or grasp of a
situation. In the committee's action looking toward adjournment he actually
thought he saw a sign of weakening!

"Now is the moment for us to show our power!" he said.

In this he gained the zealous support of Judge Terry and Major Marmaduke
Miles, two others with more zeal than discretion. These three managed to
persuade Governor Johnson to order a parade of State troops in the streets
of San Francisco. Their argument was that such a parade--of legally
organized forces--would overawe the citizens; their secret hope, however,
was that such a show would provoke the desired conflict. This hope they
shared with Howard, after the governor's order had been obtained. Howard's
vanity and inclinations jumped together. He consented. Altogether, it was a
very pretty little plot.

By now the Law and Order forces had become numerically formidable. The
bobtail and rag-tag, ejected either by force or by fright, flocked to the
colours. A certain proportion of the militia remained in the ranks, though
a majority had resigned. A large contingent of reckless, wild young men,
without a care or a tie in the world, with no interest in the rights of the
case, or, indeed, in themselves, avid only for adventure, offered
themselves as soon as the prospects for a real fight became good. And there
were always the five hundred discomfited Texans.

Nor were arms now lacking. Contrary to all expectation, the committee had
scrupulously refrained from meddling with the State armouries. All militia
muskets were available. In addition the State had now the right to a
certain quota of Federal arms, stored in the arsenal at Benicia. These
could be requisitioned.

At this point in the planning weasly little Jimmy Ware had a bright idea.

"Look here!" he cried, "how many of those Benicia muskets are there?"

"About a hundred and fifty stand, sir," Howard told him.

"Now they can't help us a whole lot," propounded Ware. "They are too few.
But why can't we use them for bait, to get those people on the wrong side
of the fence?"

"What do you mean?" asked Terry, who knew Ware intimately.

"Suppose they are shipped from Benicia to the armouries in the city; they
are legally Federal property until they are delivered, aren't they?"

"Certainly."

"Well, if the Stranglers should happen to seize them while they're still
Federal property, they've committed a definite offence against the United
States, haven't they?"

"What do we care about that now?" asked Major Marmaduke Miles, to whom this
seemed irrelevant.

But Judge Terry's legal mind was struck with the beauty and simplicity of
this ruse.

"Hold on!" he cried. "If we ship them in a boat, the seizure will be
piracy. If they intercept those arms, they're pirates, and we can legally
call on the Federal forces--_and they'll be compelled to respond, egad!_"

"They're pretty smart; suppose they smell a rat?" asked Miles doubtfully.

"Then we'll have the muskets where we want them, anyway. It's worth
trying," replied Ware.

"I know just the man," put in Terry. "I'll send for him."

Shortly appeared a saturnine, lank, bibulous individual known as Rube
Maloney. To him Terry explained. He was to charter a sloop, take the
muskets aboard--and get caught.

"No resistance, mind you!" warned Terry.

"Trust me for that," grinned Rube. "I ain't anxious for no punctured skin,
nor yit a stretched neck."

"Pick your men carefully."

"I'll take Jack Phillips and Jim McNab," said Rube, after a moment's
thought, "and possibly a few refreshments?" he suggested.

Terry reached into his pocket.

"Certainly, certainly," said he. "Treat yourself well."

There remained only to see that the accurate details should get to the
Committee of Vigilance, but in such a manner as to avoid suspicion that the
information had been "planted."

"Is there anybody we can trust on their rolls?" asked Terry.

But it was reluctantly conceded that the Vigilantes had pretty well cleaned
out the doubtful ones. Here again, the resourceful Jimmy Ware came to the
rescue.

"I know your man--Morrell. He'll get it to them. As far as anybody knows,
he hasn't taken sides at all."

"Will you see him?" asked Terry.

"I'll see him," promised Jimmy Ware.

LXVIII

By this time the Vigilante organization had pretty well succeeded in
eliminating the few Law and Order sympathizers who had been bold enough to
attempt to play the part of spy by signing the rolls. These had not been
many, and their warning had been sufficient. But Morrell had, in a measure,
escaped distrust even if he had not gained confidence. He had had the sense
not to join the organization; and his attitude of the slightly
supercilious, veiledly contemptuous Britisher, scorning all things about
him, was sufficient guarantee of his neutrality. This breed was then very
common. He left his conference with Jimmy Ware thoroughly instructed, quite
acquiescent, but revolving matters in his own mind to see if somehow he
could not turn them to his advantage. For Morrell was, as always, in need
of money. In addition, he had a personal score to settle with Keith for,
although he had apparently forgotten their last interview regarding
"loans," the memory rankled. And Morrell had not forgotten that before all
this Vigilante business broke he had been made a good offer by Cora's
counsel to get Keith out of the way. Cora was now very dead, to be sure;
but on sounding Jimmy Ware, Morrell learned that Keith's removal would
still be pleasant to the powers that pay.

If he could work these things all in together--Cogitating absorbedly, he
glanced up to see Ben Sansome sauntering down the street, his malacca cane
at the proper angle, his cylindrical hat resting lightly on his sleek
locks, his whole person spick with the indescribably complete appointment
of the dandy. Sansome was mixed up with the Keiths--perhaps he could be
used--On impulse Morrell hailed him genially, and invited him to take a
drink. The exquisite brightened, and perceptibly hastened his step.
Morrell's rather ultra-Anglicism always fascinated him. They turned in at
the El Dorado, and there seated themselves at the most remote of the small
tables.

"Well," said Morrell cheerfully, after preliminary small talk had been
disposed of, "how goes the fair Nancy?"

Sansome's effeminately handsome face darkened. Things had in reality gone
very badly with the fair Nancy. Her revulsion against Sansome at the time
of the capture of the jail had been complete; and as is the case with real
revulsions, she had not attempted to conceal it. Sansome's careful
structure, which had gained so lofty an elevation, had collapsed like the
proverbial house of cards. His vanity had been cruelly rasped. And what had
been more or less merely a dilettante's attraction had been thereby changed
into a thwarted passion.

"Damn the fair Nancy!" he cried, in answer to Morrell's question.

Morrell's eyes narrowed, and he motioned quietly to the waiting black to
replenish the glasses.

"With all my heart, damn her!" said he. "I agree with you; she's a snippy,
cold little piece. Not my style at all. Not worth the serious attention of
a man like yourself. Who is it now, you sly dog?"

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